Spirited Away To You

Chapter-22: Young and Bold

I woke up to someone banging my head. Groaning, I peeked a little, taking in the familiar surrounding. Hangover's a bitch. My head seemed like it would blow off anytime like a ticking bomb and my throat parched like a dying pilgrim in the Sahara.

I sat up, immediately regretting it as another wave of pain passed through the lobes of my dysfunctional brain. There was aspirin on my nightstand, accompanied by a glass of water. I plopped up the pill and forced myself to go shower before I swam in my own vomit in bed.

It was a very bad idea. Under the hot water, that soon ran cold, all the memories of last night came rushing in. My drunk self. Elijah and Britney. And my stupid antics.

I closed my eyes thinking how stupid I acted yesterday. William would never talk to me. Hell, I wouldn't talk to such a stupid self.

Hopping out of the shower, I tried remembering all the events from last night. My very first thought was to call Mikayla and say everything I saw. No. What if they were talking about something else? It's not like I saw them kissing or something. I couldn't jump to a conclusion.

Keeping my phone back, I thought about William. He was so caring towards me last night. I hope I didn't say anything stupid. But I remember hugging him and getting on his back. Oh, shoot.

I looked at myself as I passed the mirror. The oversized jumper went long enough to not wear any pants and there were still remains of my makeup around the eye. I officially looked like a raccoon.

The day was spent by lying around in self-pity with Aunt popping by to feed me every once in a while.

"Sweetie, there's a dog I found in the backyard playing with Trixie. He wasn't leaving or anything so I kept him inside. Do you know anyone who has a dog?" Aunt asked. Yep, I wasn't dreaming when I saw them both cuddled up on the sofa last night.

"No, but is it okay if he stays? I found him in the school lot," I blurted out, biting down on my lips in worry about Aunt's answer.

"It is completely okay dearie, but don't let your Uncle see him much, he's so grumpy about dogs." I let out a sigh of relief.

He's grumpy about everything.

I just nodded. I lied around scrolling through my feeds and looking out in the gloomy weather to see if William was there. It soon got dark while I still laid around sulking, sure that William ran away. The rain continued drizzling, clouding the glass. A knock shook me from my dazed form as I looked to see a figure standing outside the window.

"Rose, it's me," William called out.

I sighed, relieved that it was not any burglar. A burglar wouldn't knock. He could have just come in but still knocked. What a gentleman. I slowly unlocked the latch and let him in but turned away quickly before he could see my disastrous form.

"You feeling good?" He inquired.

I just hummed.

"Sorry, got caught behind."

I wondered about that but didn't voice it. Instead, I went around my bookshelf and started picking at the books.

"Are you ignoring me again, Rose?"

I looked at him to let him know that I was just embarrassed about yesterday but stopped when I took in his form. He looked pale, the bags under his eyes prominent, and was drenched a little by the rain.

"Are you okay?" I asked quickly making my way toward him.

"I'm completely fine, just feeling a little tired that's all," he just shrugged.

"Please, you can lay down if you're feeling bad," I said worriedly but couldn't understand how he felt ill or tired. He's a spirit.

He just walked around and sat on the bed patting his other side motioning me to do the same.

"Is Aristotle downstairs?"

"Yeah, he and Trixie are with Aunt Kelly, probably cuddling her," I chuckled a little as I sat down next to him.

A silence evolved us as William looked around.

"You got a nice room-"

"I'm really sorry for yesterday-" we both started laughing as we spoke at the same time.

"Look," I started, "yesterday I-I,"

"You were wasted and did things you regret now, I get it," he said chuckling, "you don't need to feel embarrassed, if anything, I enjoyed every bit of drunk Rose."

He continued laughing lightly, causing me to blush and fume at the same time.

"I didn't say anything stupid, did I?"

"No, you didn't," he assured.

But his look said it all. The sparkle in his eyes dimmed a bit as if he remembered something. I told him something. Reading from his expression, it must have been about my parents. All too sudden, I felt claustrophobic in my room, my tears threatening to spill.

"Flower, shh, don't cry," William said as I felt him hug me.

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to tell you like that and...and-"

He shushed me by hugging me tighter while I whimpered on his shoulder. But he kept silent, not saying a word for which I was grateful. It felt like he didn't pity me, which was good since I didn't want anyone to look at me differently after they knew I lost my parents.

"Can I ask you something, Will?"

"Sure Flower," he responded as we parted a little.

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand before asking,

"When did you die?"

Just finishing my sentence, I saw him still. "You don't have to-" I started, thinking I was asking too much but he cut me off.

"No, it's okay, I obviously owe you that much."

I just nodded knowing he was fine with telling me.

"I have been 'wandering' for about two years now although it took some time to realize people didn't see me or I couldn't touch them, call out for them," he sighed.

My heart ached to hear that. I just squeezed his hand to say that I was there with him.

"Was it lonely?"

He just nodded, his head hanging down prevailing me from seeing his face.

"How old were you?"

"Third year in college, so about twenty-one."

I calculated in my head that he would be around twenty-three if he was alive. He died so young, even before his life barely started. I wanted to share that my parents also died around that time, but it seemed selfish. Still, I couldn't help but wonder,

'How did he die?'

But before I could ask, Aunt bolted into my room with a frightened expression,

"Dear, you have to come to stop your Uncle!"

Now, what was wrong with him?